A not-so-sudden return

Shino had already left. She had returned to the front lines and formed a three-person leveling party with Mito and Asuna.

As for why Asuna had teamed up with Kirito for so long, only to fall out with him and split up on the twelfth floor, Wang Shui was no longer interested in the gossip.

His main reason for calling Shino out had been to give her a weapon. Leveling had merely been a way to convey his status, to let Shino and the clearing team know he was active again. That way, when Wang Shui directly adjusted his level and joined the front lines to clear floors later, it would not seem abrupt.

As long as he did not arouse any unusual suspicions among the players, Akihiko Kayaba would not say anything either. After all, Wang Shui had also egged him on to adjust his level.

Yet Wang Shui had still overthought things. He simply had no time left to play the game.

Wang Shui's goal had always been to learn and improve himself. Once Shino left, he resumed his unfinished exploration of martial arts.

With a handgun equipped at his waist, he fought humanoid monsters barehanded. Wang Shui had already progressed to grappling and joint locks, but the game did not have such detailed weak-point detection. Attacks on internal organs and soft tissue rarely produced normal feedback, let alone strikes to acupuncture points.

Joint locks, however, could inflict the destructive effect of [Fracture].

In just half a day, the [Forest Elf] enemies, whose levels were similar to Wang Shui's but whose attributes were much higher, lost their value as sparring partners.

Without using a weapon, Wang Shui could quickly break their limbs, then take two steps back, draw his gun, and shoot them dead.

Yes, while practicing grappling, Wang Shui was also training his shooting skills. This time, he no longer shot stationary targets, instead practicing on agile humanoid monsters with a strong urge to attack. His focus was the efficient [Mozambique Drill] within twenty meters and quick draws at extremely close range.

In Wang Shui's view, a handgun was actually an extension of the spear, a cold weapon.

Martial arts extended from close-body wrestling to punches, palm strikes, and grappling-where there was also a distinction between long- and short-range fighting-then to sabers and swords, and finally to staffs and spears.

Just as punches, palm strikes, and kicks had many schools with different styles, weapons also came in different forms with different methods of use: short swords, daggers, whips, sword-breakers, hammers, claws, tonfas, meteor hammers, and so on. Polearms could extend one's reach to three or five meters.

But the greater the distance, the more human strength was diminished. Under the principle of leverage, reach and reduced effort could not both be achieved, so ancient bows, crossbows, and arrows became the answer. All of these belonged to martial arts.

Wang Shui believed firearms merely added gunpowder propulsion and were no different from ancient spring-loaded sleeve darts. Firearms also counted as martial weapons, filling the attack range beyond staffs and spears, so they also needed to be paired with light, mobile footwork to create favorable conditions for attacking and retreating.

Thus it was proven: shooting firearms was also martial arts.

Unlike three months earlier, Wang Shui now not only had an ample ammunition allowance, but could also search online for all kinds of tutorials outside his evening studies, avoiding many detours compared with blindly researching on his own.

Time slowly passed amid fulfilling study and training.

"Boss, has there been any progress on the [artificial Fluctlight] concept you mentioned in your paper?"

Having returned to the small office that evening to continue studying, Wang Shui asked Akihiko Kayaba across the room. Kayaba was handling guild affairs at the time, all things like leveling schedules, group quests, and training.

Kayaba had finally founded the [Knights of the Blood] recently and was thoroughly enjoying himself.

"Verifying the Fluctlight hypothesis is fundamental to FullDive technology, and collecting and interfering with Fluctlight signals is also the basis for this world's existence. It's still difficult to determine whether the human soul actually takes the form of [light]. We simply tend to understand it as a photonic form with a special field. Its movement, aggregation, radiation, and field properties are all still under observation."

"But you decoded it. You analyzed the changes in Fluctlight radiation and reproduced the process by which nerve cells decode Fluctlight information into bioelectric signals, thereby creating the microwave decoder NerveGear,

achieving the effect of the [Soul Translator STL] you envisioned." "No, NerveGear isn't that powerful yet. It can translate very few instructions. With it alone, users still can't independently construct their own existence. NerveGear merely intercepts and returns some of the signals used to operate the body. The Soul Translator concept, however, is to read a human soul's Fluctlight completely, map it synchronously onto a discrete disk array, and decode it into a high-level language."

Akihiko Kayaba's description was already very straightforward, much easier to understand than reading the papers directly.

"So how far have Fluctlight reading and artificial production progressed?"

"You've already seen it. [Autonomous Intelligence] is the latest [self-learning artificial intelligence], but it hasn't been given self-awareness. It can think, but can't have experiences resembling emotions. In that respect, it's inferior even to [accumulative artificial intelligence], or traditional [database-response intelligence]."

"Wouldn't that make it more dangerous?" Artificial intelligence without emotions sounded frightening.

"Ha, this is where I have to mention some other scientists. Quite a few countries have long supported quantum computing research. About a year ago, I met several leading scholars specializing in quantum computation, and together we developed the [positive-negative law personality algorithm] to address the potential dangers of the artificial intelligence we envisioned. It's a firewall-style algorithm with benefits in both directions. You can look at the differences between the quantum-computing and electronic-computing versions in this file. I'll send you the related documents too. Hmm... make a low-intelligence template as soon as possible and demonstrate it to me, then I'll teach you more. Oh, right, most of the documents are in Chinese. Do you need me to translate them?"

"Ah, no need. I taught myself Chinese a few days ago." Wang Shui casually made up an excuse, his attention already drawn to the documents.

"That's quite impressive." Kayaba did not pay it much mind either.

The so-called [positive-negative rate personality algorithm] was an enormous algorithmic framework. Its structure lay even beneath the artificial intelligence's core logical algorithms, serving as its foundation and skeleton by providing more fundamental protocols and logic.

The personality algorithm's function was also simple-the more knowledge an artificial intelligence acquired, the more complete its personality became, and the more emotionally driven its acquisition of knowledge grew.

They would develop a heartfelt aversion to learning, grow weary of repetitive work, yearn for more varied and richer sensory stimulation, and develop higher-level thinking and creativity.

In more abstract terms, this algorithm could increase artificial intelligence's emotionality and reduce its rationality.

This fundamental limiter seemed to greatly reduce the value of artificial intelligence. After all, the purpose of developing artificial intelligence was for it to replace humans in repetitive labor and organizing big data.

Thus, the personality algorithm also created an [aptitude and interest zone]. The knowledge and related settings stored there would unlock an interest resembling a sense of responsibility, making the artificial intelligence extremely enthusiastic about its [destined] work.

It had to be said that this ingenious concept not only made artificial intelligence more humanlike and independent, but also ensured its productive value.

Only after a full ten days did Wang Shui put down the ever-growing pile of materials. Only now did he begin building a low-level artificial intelligence from scratch, starting with the framework.

His daily combat training was compressed to six hours. Wang Shui piled sheets of white paper covered in diagrams and writing throughout the little room, with many screens interspersed among them.

Wang Shui slumped on the sofa in the very center as though comprehending the Dao, sometimes closing his eyes in contemplation, sometimes quickly searching for materials, and sometimes writing furiously.

At first, Akihiko Kayaba would come over to answer questions and clear up confusion. Later, he too sat beside Wang Shui, his eyes constantly sweeping over the diagrams around them as he repeatedly sank into thought.

The amount of time that passed was staggering, but there was no denying that Wang Shui spent most of over a year here.

"That'll do. We can stop here for now. The computation required afterward is enormous. SAO's servers alone can't handle it."

As Wang Shui spoke, he tapped the screen to his right.

"Seventy-five percent... aren't you going to push the [field interference] effect further? We can advance it another five percent or so, calculating up to here."

Kayaba had already risen and was standing before a screen, his right hand pressed against a sheet of white paper on the wall, looking conflicted.

"Overtaxing the servers could crash the game. There's no need to sacrifice over two hundred thousand lives for this little bit."

That was what Wang Shui said, but he did not actually care all that much whether these people lived or died. He was merely afraid he would not have time to extract [The World Seed].

"Mm, research can't be rushed. Let's organize these theories first and test the first seventy-five percent."

Organizing was only a little easier than thinking.

The earlier theoretical research had not been purely mental work either. Experiments and testing proceeding alongside it were the foundation of scientific research. Without phenomena and resulting data, researchers could not conjure up subsequent theories out of thin air. Without practice, everything was conjecture and empty talk.

The research that had made them forget time and rest finally stopped. After another twenty days and nights, Wang Shui obtained a seed data package before [The World Seed]-the [Mind Lock].

For any artificial intelligence created using this [Mind Lock], regardless of its subsequent logic, as long as it still thought in a manner resembling a human soul, everything about it would be strictly defined by the Mind Lock's owner.

Yes, everything.

Of course, the prerequisite was that the artificial intelligence had been created using the [Mind Lock].

The [Mind Lock] was not merely a shackle, but also protection. Protected artificial intelligence would be sheltered by physical computing power. Before an outside force broke through the [Mind Lock], the artificial intelligence could even connect to the internet one-way while remaining absolutely safe.

"I have to admit, you're the smartest, most knowledgeable, and most creative student I've ever met. Completing the [Mind Lock Computing Cloud Cluster] with you has left me feeling old and weak."

A relieved smile appeared on the mentally exhausted Akihiko Kayaba's face, and he continued:

"As for your final conjecture, whether the [Mind Lock] can be used to capture a [natural Fluctlight]... personally, I advise against testing it. Don't use human lives to test the cloud cluster. You're only sixteen. You still have a long road ahead."

Kayaba was no longer as indifferent as he had been a year earlier, and had become somewhat more talkative.

"Oh, I wouldn't. I'm kind and innocent by nature, with an extremely strong moral compass. How could I do something like that? Besides, capturing a natural Fluctlight, or a soul, requires a complete soul that has already separated from its body. Artificial souls are more reliable for soul capture. We don't have the material right now anyway."

Wang Shui saved the data package to NerveGear, then said to Akihiko Kayaba:

"Get some rest and recover your energy. Boss, you're also the best teacher I've ever met... I hope the [Mind Lock] helps you too."

Akihiko Kayaba froze for a moment, then silently waved and teleported away without saying anything more.

Wang Shui had accidentally discovered a while ago that he planned to kill himself by scanning his brain with a high-powered [Soul Translator]. Or rather, Wang Shui had merely noticed another high-powered instrument among the devices connected to the server and asked Akihiko Kayaba directly.

Wang Shui showed no reaction to Kayaba's departure, nor did he try to persuade him to abandon suicide. Over ten thousand players had already died, and as the culprit behind it all, he was under considerable pressure too. Rather than letting him go mad from overthinking, it would be better to let him end his own life.

Of course, all of that was conjecture, conjecture Wang Shui had formed after working with Kayaba for a while and discovering that he was not so cold and heartless.

Wang Shui was not qualified to judge other people's morality. What he now had to face was his own tomorrow.

Over a year had already passed. It was now August 24, 2024. Throughout the research, Wang Shui had never let up on his martial arts training, and had even applied the research results to it.

Wang Shui had not only fully mastered unarmed strikes and grappling, but had also developed some presence with sabers and swords. Just last week, his staff and spear skills had finally earned the Dream System's recognition too, and a new skill appeared in his skill list-[Foundation of Martial Arts (Beginner)].

Wang Shui did not understand. He could already be considered capable of using most cold weapons, yet this was only a beginner skill. Just how powerful must the Awakened in the Infinite Core safe zone be, with their entire collections of advanced skills!

Wang Shui simply felt that he had underestimated those combat-class heroes before.

Unfortunately, he still had not managed to unlock any firearm-related skills, no matter how much he explored.

Speaking of which, to master martial arts, Wang Shui had used the unfinished [Mind Lock] and SAO's testing system to create a super artificial intelligence with Kayaba's help, feeding it vast amounts of martial arts knowledge and combat theory, both ancient and modern.

After using the [Mind Lock] to lock in its newly formed interest, Wang Shui released it onto the internet and uncapped its learning speed. Half a year later, he had obtained a super martial fanatic with nothing but combat thinking and no personality awareness.

Wang Shui designed an instructional personality for it, making it a strict martial arts teacher. It was thanks to this martial arts teacher he had created, along with the testing system's pain system, that Wang Shui had mastered the [Foundation of Martial Arts] skill.

The process was extremely painful, but Wang Shui embraced it gladly.

With everything wrapped up for the time being, Wang Shui lay on the sofa and could not help thinking... In the end, this should about do it, right?

Two skills, along with possible additional gains, were already the best outcome for Wang Shui.

Wang Shui was someone who acted on his thoughts. Once the thought of leaving arose, he immediately got up to prepare.

First came two relatively brief letters, bidding farewell to Shino and Akihiko Kayaba.

Although this was only a fantasy world-no, only a special branch world of a fantasy world-the feelings were real.

Come to think of it, he also had to thank the [Enormous] and [Real] mutation tags. Without them, Wang Shui might not have been able to spark an industrial revolution in SAO, and would never have ended up in the same camp as that embarrassing bro Kayaba, much less learned so much.

Wang Shui had prepared many futile struggles along the way. He had considered hanging around Lord Kirito and the clearing team, and becoming something like a reclusive master. Looking back now at all that assorted mess in his memories, there was truly no telling which choice might have sent him down another main storyline.

Life was inevitability amid countless coincidences.

When Wang Shui graduated from university, he had returned to his old home in the countryside and dug up many childhood belongings in a tiny storage room. There were novels that interested him, all kinds of toys, and some specialized books.

He had not had a planned-out life. He could have taken all sorts of paths, but he chose chemistry, then switched to programming, and in the end unexpectedly transmigrated and became an Awakened.

Life was as fucked up as ever. In the fantasy world, Wang Shui's desire to survive and grow stronger was so intense that he had always thought he was taking a straight road to strength. He had never expected so many useless branches to emerge anyway. Perhaps it was precisely these miscellaneous matters that made him so ordinary, but he could not be angry. After all, they were all his own choices.

His mind was almost turning to philosophical speculation, but Wang Shui's hands did not stop. After organizing his research materials, he not only saved them to NerveGear's hard drive, but also memorized them word for word.

It sounded terrifying, but it was not particularly difficult in practice. After all, these were things he had thought up and written himself. Take the structure of the [Mind Lock Computing Cloud Cluster]: given a little time, he could even write one out from scratch.

Once he had learned the knowledge, he no longer feared losing the materials. Wang Shui simply could not bear to part with files that had cost him so much time.

Finally, there was [The World Seed].

Amid strange emotions, the slow packaging process ended. Wang Shui tried touching [The World Seed], manifested as a golden egg. The system notification he had imagined did not sound, and his heart sank, leaving him feeling hollow.

No, it should be fine, Wang Shui reassured himself, then began transferring the data package to NerveGear.

Sitting on the sofa with a pie in one hand and a cola in the other, Wang Shui awaited fate's verdict.

[Dream System detection activated... main storyline complete...]

The notification sounded like celestial music. After what had felt like over a year and nine months, that brain-dead electronic voice was still so familiar and pleasing to the ear.

[Assessing ending...]

[World tier: Tier 1]

[Danger level: Lv.1]

[Main storyline difficulty: Lv.0]

[Side storyline difficulty: None]

[Completion: 100%]

[Plot exploration: -127%]

[Combat performance: Average]

[Overall rating: D] (F-S)

[Return now? Remaining time allowed: 60 minutes]

Huh? What the hell is that exploration score? I uncovered so much knowledge. Shouldn't my exploration score be really high?! Isn't this rating way too low?!

Wang Shui's mental complaints received no answers. Having lost interest in staying, he chose to return.

Amid a hazy white light, Wang Shui continued receiving system messages.

[A special plot item has been detected among the Awakened's belongings. Items from fantasy worlds lose their functions specific to their own spacetime upon entering reality. Would you like to retain it?]

Before his rewards were calculated, Wang Shui received a special notification.

"Will the storage device be affected?"

[No]

"Then keep it."

[Materializing this item requires 1,000 Dream Points. Please confirm.]

Tsk, only telling me the price at the end. Wang Shui pressed confirm with a contorted expression.

[Assessing mission rewards...]

[Congratulations! Obtained: 5,000 Dream Points, transcendence level +1, item reward "Hand of the Hermit (Gold)"]

Holy shit, a gold item?

[Mission complete. Returning to the safe city shortly. The Awakened's physical body is currently extremely weak. Teleport directly to a recuperation pod?]

"How much?"

[Including recuperation fees, the total is 1,722 points]

That's not too bad... Still unfamiliar with the system, Wang Shui had no other questions and simply chose to end the mission.

Afterward, he only felt himself falling into a pool of warm water, then sank into a deep sleep.